Thursday, November 19, 2015

Ending the Nightmares

Was the
joy of taking my first child to the wedding canopy going to be marred by a
tragedy?

That was my
thought as I raced through the house looking for my uncle’s phone number.
Outside the sun had not even risen but inside, our house was bright with a
number of electrical lights. The phone call from my oldest son, in route from a
business trip and waiting in JFK Airport, had plunged me and my husband into a
frenzied panic.

“I can’t
find Opa*. They’re boarding the flight to Israel. I’ve been to the Arrivals and
no one will tell me anything. What should I do?”

Had my
father suffered a heart attack? Maybe there’d been an accident on the way to
the airport? My father was an organized, prompt, and considerate man. What
could possibly make him miss the flight to his first grandson’s wedding? Would
my uncle have any answers?

My bottom
lip trembled. My hands shook. I fought tears as I opened the address book. I
felt trapped inside a nightmare.

Before I
could dial our phone rang again.

“Opa’s
here!”

My father’s
first flight had departed late causing him to miss his connecting flight to New
York. He caught another plane and arrived at JFK in the nick of time. It all
made perfect sense but in the early hours of the morning I was far more emotional
than sensible. After the second phone call my emotions were full of gratitude
and relief. My nightmare had ended before it had really begun. Our child was
married four days later in a wedding full of joy and thankfulness.

My father with my son at his wedding

Eleven years
later another family was joyously preparing to marry off their child. Five days
before the wedding they kissed the bride good-bye, leaving her to enjoy her
last Shabbat as an unmarried girl with her friends. Her father, mother, and siblings would
celebrate with the groom’s family. Everyone anticipated a Shabbat full of joy.

However, as
the family car made its way to the groom’s home a passing vehicle holding
hate-filled Arabs opened fire spraying the family with bullets. Reportedly a
Red Crescent ambulance, the Moslem wing of the Red Cross, stood nearby but
offered no assistance. By the time Magen David Adom, the Israeli ambulance,
arrived it was too late to save the bride’s father, Rabbi Yaakov Littman, hy’d,
or her eighteen-year-old brother, Netanel, hy’d. The anticipated joyous Shabbat
had turned to one of deep sorrow and pain. When will their nightmare ever end?

Shortly before
that Shabbat started reports of the terror attack made its’ rounds in the
Israeli news, but details were not forthcoming. Once Shabbat ended they were
obscured by the massive tragedy in Paris. As horrific as that disaster was, it
does not lessen the pain of us in Israel. As the Facebook post declared, Paris
11/13; New York 9/11; Israel 24/7.

While caring
people worldwide condemn the violence in Paris and express their support for
France, we in Israel question why those same condemnations and expressions of
support are so measly when it concerns us.
We don’t wonder for long, though. A serious look at history shows that
we must take care of ourselves. We cannot rely on the United Nations, the
European Union, the Pope, President Obama, or any other world leaders. No, we
can only turn to G-d.

That is
exactly what happened at the Kotel the Sunday following the murders. Ordinary
women, like myself, were exchanging names of the wounded from recent terror
attacks. They didn’t know the injured personally but, even so they considered
them as part of their family. I joined in their heartfelt prayers pleading with
HaShem for a full recovery for all and an end to the terror.

We also
prayed for Sara Littman and her family. We prayed that they would be comforted
among the mourners of Zion. We prayed that Sara would be able to find joy going
to her wedding canopy despite the blaring absence of her father and brother.

She and her
fiancé have announced that their wedding will be postponed only by nine
days and that the entire nation of Israel is invited. It will be a difficult
wedding and yet they are determined to make it a happy one. They are adamant
that our enemies will not crush us. They are resolute in their desire to change
their sorrow into joy. I pray that they will be able to do so. I pray that our nightmares will end.

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Aim of Blog

Emunah, faith in God, does not mean believing only good things will happen; it means believing that whatever God does is for the best. I wrote these words at a time when drive-by shootings and suicide bombers had become almost weekly, if not daily, tragedies. Now, more than ten years later, the words are no less true. Whatever HaShem does is for the best. It is my hope to post articles, advice, and homey stories everyweekwhich will reinforce this fact. And now, a special thanks to:

Batya Medad, my neighbor and experienced blogger. Without her I would never have been able to set up

About Me

Born in Wichita, Kansas, I became a Baalat Teshuva, newly religious, in Phoenix, Arizona while attending ASU. After twelve years of marriage my husband and I made Aliyah with five children and settled in Shilo in the heart of Israel. Two more children joined the family as have daughters-in-law, sons-in-law, and grandchildren, Baruch HaShem. My favorite past times are learning, sewing, hiking, reading, cooking, baking, enjoying my family and friends, and, of course, writing. My first novel, Sondra’s Search, was published in 2007 and I am working on the sequel.